SUMMERTIME . . .

There's something about this time of the year -- the downward swoop of summer, the onrush of autumn, my favorite season, the changing scent of the air, the coolness of the evening that isn't quite chilly, the increasing smokiness in the atmosphere -- that makes me turn back to those who tug at my heart strings: John Mayer, Dave Matthews, Jack Johnson, Fiona Apple, Sarah McLachlan, after a summer of classic rock and R&B and hip-hop .... Each of these artists stir memories, smells, feelings, breezes, smiles, tears, precious precious moments I wish I could hold in my hand and gaze upon without end, without blinking. This sort of heavy-heartedness, I embrace completely, surrounding myself with it in the car, in a dimly-lit living room, even in bed at night, for there is a strange comfort to be found in recalling the best of times and the musical accompaniment thereof, even while mourning their passing ...